Arthur didn't panic. Not yet. He opened his laptop and typed three words into his search engine like a prayer: buy name tag holders .
Arthur’s eyes darted to the clock. It was 4:55 PM on a Tuesday. buy name tag holders
The next morning, a delivery truck rumbled up to the convention center. Arthur met the driver at the curb, practically hugging the cardboard boxes. He spent the afternoon sliding cardstock into plastic, a rhythmic, soul-soothing task. Arthur didn't panic
He had spent weeks perfecting the typography. He had agonized over the matte finish of the cardstock. But in his spreadsheet of "Essential Logistics," the row for was a glaring, empty white void. Arthur’s eyes darted to the clock
When the doors opened the following day, three thousand attendees walked through the lobby. They didn't notice the "tear-resistant" seams or the "anti-glare" finish. They just clipped them on, shook hands, and began to talk.
The "Great Conference Kerfuffle" began exactly forty-eight hours before the Global Tech Summit, when Arthur, a junior assistant with a penchant for over-preparedness, realized he had three thousand printed badges but zero ways to attach them to human beings.
"Bulk quantities," he muttered, filtering his search. "Next-day shipping. Caribou County delivery."